| Walking round Chicago
|
| I have smuggled you as cargo
|
| Though you are far away unknowing
|
| By the time we get to Salt Lake
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| I have packed you in my suitcase
|
| Ironed the creases from my own remembering
|
| She said, «Bird, oh why?»
|
| We wound our way to Texas
|
| And I summoned remote hexes
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| And I sent them across dust and oceans
|
| In Phoenix, Arizona I had the notion I might phone you
|
| But there it lived and died a notion
|
| She said, «Bird, oh why?»
|
| And I said, «Bird, oh why?»
|
| Oh my satellite
|
| Oh my passenger
|
| We came up on Ohio
|
| I have you chewed on like a biro
|
| You are a sum I am no closer to deciphering
|
| We came to Minneapolis
|
| All fizzy blood and twitchy fists
|
| I buried you in a day of snowing
|
| She said, «Bird, oh why?»
|
| I said, «Bird, oh why?»
|
| Oh my satellite
|
| Oh my passenger |